Of Snow and Snowflakes
by Ash Night
Summary: The workings of a humorous, snarky, twisted story about Aubrey's irrational fear of snow and his interactions with the other equally crazy characters.


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Of Snow and Snowflakes

By Ash Night

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Disclaimer: All the characters that play their little lives out in this story belong to Amelia Atwater-Rhodes. I shall return them as promptly and with as little… disturbances as possible. :)

Author's Note: A humorous light story about Aubrey's irrational fear of the snow. This is the first chapter in what I believe to be a rather long-ish story. And as a note, there is a *reason* why this is rated PG-13. Think of it as a dirty, naughty, perverted Austin Powers movie. It certainly gets a bit inappropriate in a few sections. And of course, take everything not too seriously. It's all in the good of spirit and the sadistical urge that resides in me to torture that gorgeous hunk of a vampire. 

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And Thus Began the Tale

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It snowed, and it was one of the very few things that bothered him. New Mayhem, encrusted in the forests of New England, was a beckoning call to those little innocent flakes of soft purity. And it never ceased to bug him to no end. 

There had always been the lingering thought of moving away to the warmer climates, of the warm silky sands, tropical waters, and the glorious sun. But it would be too far away from New Mayhem, god be damned he ever voiced how much he cherished his home there. That, however, was an excuse, not the reason for not packing his suitcases, what little use he had of them, and relocating to a more temperate location. 

So, there he stayed inside his house, fire blazing in the fireplace. Occasionally he would get the masochistic urge and walk over to the window, parting the curtains only to glare disdainfully at the flourishing of the white snowflakes that spiraled and drifted and fell to the ground without a care in the world. In a few seconds, however, his rational mind would jump into action, and a quick swish would finish off the snow from his view. 

"Damned snow," he would always mutter, tearing his gaze away from the now fully curtained window. 

His roommate found his behavior quite awkward and unusually unsuitable for his character. She never ceased to prod and prattle him about his odd distaste for the snow. 

"What did the snow ever do to you?" she would always ask, sometimes in a playful tone, sometimes in a disgusted one; her voice always varied. 

He would never answer her, ignoring the question outright and go about his day as routinely as possible. Nothing could bother him. He was a powerful vampire with long fangs; that had to count for something at the very least. But nonetheless, the tiny snowflakes that had given joy to a countless number of children somehow held the power over him to disturb him so greatly. And such a pathetic thing never ceased to bother him. 

He never analyzed his hatred, detest, abhorrence, for snow. But with each fall, he knew that something was not quite right with himself as he felt a cold wind blowing through. Although, he would never, ever admit such a thing. 

And so he lived what life he could live as an undead immortal being. He would consciously abandon the hunting grounds in the Northern areas; a quick check on the Internet's weather report would tell him such things, for which he was eternally grateful to Jessica for providing. Instead, he would disappear off to the beaches of the Rivera or perhaps even the Mediterranean, which reminded him of his old home. There, immersed in the crowds along the boardwalks filled with scantily clothed people, he found what he was able to call a buffet, which was a nice welcome change compared to the freezer burned frozen food items in the New England Refrigerator. 

All would be well and he was able to forget about his troubles that came with a small four-letter word, until he had to return home again. 

"Where have you been? I've been waiting for you for the entire night. It's nearly dawn," scolded Jessica. "And why do you smell like sweat, sex and blood?"

It was like being forced to create snow angels and snowmen. 

"Well? Why don't you answer me?" she asked testily. She gave him that look, the one that showed that whatever answer came out of his mouth would determine whether or not he would have the chance to see another well endowed woman in a tiny bikini ever again along the nude beaches in France, though he would have never voiced this meaning of life aloud to her. 

"My dear," he cooed; (Fala would be disgusted with this action). "I just happened to drop by a 'game reserve' a couple of time zones over. I must have lost track of the time." What he didn't tell her was that it was already noon from where he came from. 

She frowned, but grudgingly began to accept his answer. "It still doesn't explain why you smell like that." 

_Damn_, he thought. In a flash, the cogs working in his head began to fire away overtime. "I was feeding for one, and the area was so perfumed that I didn't know I had taken such an unpleasantly smelly fellow." 

_You are one heck of liar_. That annoying voice popped in his head again. The owner of that particular voice had decided that watching such sticky moments in his life, first person, was far more interesting than the reality TV shows that were currently on at the moment. 

Jessica sighed. "Okay. I'm sorry for accusing you for things you haven't done." A wonderful line recommended from the fellow relationship expert and adviser in New Mayhem. "But, I would like you to promise me that you'll try to come home earlier." 

_YES! _

"And if you ever wanted to smell like sex, sweat and blood, you could have come to me." Wicked smile. 

_YES! YES! YES! _And every speck of intelligence flew out of his brain. 

And a nearly muted voice barely drifted through his head while they were getting smelly with their own antics that said, _Geez. Not this again. I've seen better porn on the Discovery channel._ But because there was nothing functional in that thick skull of his, he never heard. Nor did he hear the soft snowflakes beginning to fall to the ground. 

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Author's Note: And that's the end of the first chapter, folks! Did you like? Was it mildly humorous? Completely dull? (Yes, I know they are rather out of character.) Review my dearies and you shall forever hold a place in my heart. In future parts, Risika shall make her grand appearance, Jessica will show her true colors, a poor pillow would suffer from a lot of pain, and who is going to wear that magenta jumpsuit? And as for Aubrey… ah, the poor dear… :)  


End file.
